


Unfinished Business

by thekeyholder



Category: Muse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Confessions, Inspired by Real Events, Introspection, Letters, M/M, Melancholy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2232786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom is frustrated and has to put down his feelings: he finally admits that he was in love with Matt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfinished Business

**Author's Note:**

> An old fic again, but after re-reading it I actually like it? Probably because it was written with heart. Yes, everything was inspired by reality. Title might have been inspired by the White Lies song, but it has nothing to do with the lyrics.
> 
> Originally posted on my LJ in June 2011.

Well, I know you’ll never read this, but I can’t keep these feelings in my heart anymore. The secret “case” where I hid them is completely full.

I don’t even know where to start… I think I miss you. Actually, I have a feeling that I only miss some parts of your being. I saw you in the railway station a month ago. I turned away and crossed my arms, hoping that you wouldn’t notice me. I have no idea if I was successful, but you didn’t come to me. Very well, it would have been awkward anyway. I tried to read something, but your rollicking laughter was too loud. Then another  traveller, who was sat behind me, said: “It’s Bellamy with his big mouth.”

Unfortunately, I had to agree with the statement. Since our paths separated, you’ve become so _strident_. You want to be a cool kid to impress your new friends. It’s like when you started smoking in high school. Back then when I asked you why you smoked, you just shrugged, but I knew that you wanted to be part of the ‘awesome gang’.

Well, let me tell you something, Matt: for me, you were always awesome when you were yourself. I tried to convey that message subtly, but my efforts were in vain. It’s not that you didn’t understand it; you just didn’t want to hear my opinion. Yet you always found your way back to me and I, like the biggest loser in the world, would wait in the corner for your return. I see now that those scarce hugs you gave me were far from reciprocating my unrequited love.

Yes, surprise, I was in love with you, Matthew. It just happened and sometimes I had to bear the cruellest tortures of hell when you stared in my eyes for several minutes. It was so difficult not to reveal my feelings! However, I have the impression that you had a vague suspicion about my love when you looked at me with your blue eyes, narrowed to sly slits and sneering evilly. Damn, it was like you could see through me…

There’s one memory which is especially imprinted on my mind. Inspired by your weird ways and music, I wrote a poem. I thought it was pretty good and since we needed original creations for the school’s newspaper, I asked you, my fellow columnist, to evaluate it. I handed you the printed text and said that one of my friends wrote it. I watched hungrily as you read it and my heart skipped a beat every time you exclaimed, admiring the unusual images I had come up with. 

Of course, as soon as you finished reading you asked who the author was, but I wasn’t going to reveal my identity. Finally, I could tease you like you teased me, because curiosity was your weak point. You begged for a hint, but I just smiled secretly. However, after a while you got bored and left me alone again with my regrets. If I had told you, what would have happened? Nothing, I believe you would have run away like you always did.

That’s what I didn’t like about you: you were _here_ , but at the same time you were _there_ as well. Always rushed, giving fleeting pieces of love and leaving me wanting more. It was so unfair, Matthew, so unfair!

Despite my frustrations, I took pride in the fact that whenever you finished a poem, I was the first one to read it. ALWAYS, without exception. It didn’t matter whether you wrote it during classes; you’d send your famous notebook to me. Some poems were so beautiful, some so depressing that I wanted to give you a hug…You insisted that I wrote my opinion beside the poem and I was happy to comply.

You even gave me your first notebook, but after a while you asked it back and I haven’t seen it since. You promised me that it would be mine because (I’m quoting you now) “it would be in better hands”. I wonder if you even remember these fine details. I know the answer, but I try not to think about it because I’d sink deeper in the mud of melancholy. 

It’s been over a year since we finished school. Do you remember the plans we made for that music festival? After combating countless problems, we finally went there and watched our favourite bands. Do you still listen to them? I do, I love them a million times more since then; their music cures my broken soul.

That night was incredible and even though you acted like a dick almost the whole time, you held my hand at the end of the concert and that’s how you led me out of the suffocating crowd. I imagined that after such an experience we would be friends forever, but obviously, I was wrong. You haven’t called me or sent me a message since then and I don’t think I should waste my time thinking about you. 

But in the back of my mind I know that there’ll always be a thorn in my heart, a thorn that you stabbed in my heart deeper and deeper during all these years. For me, you are an _unfinished business_. However, for you I’m just an old, illegible page in your agenda… 


End file.
